As autumn gave its last gasp of sun and warmth, the Island became a different place.

Students met regularly for classes or even social gatherings in the warmer months, but when the first snows drifted across the Island and darkness closed in early on the afternoon, most associations ended. It was strange for Elvie, as Australia seemed to always be sunny until at least five in the afternoon. Now, in the northern hemisphere, darkness stole so much of the day, and classes shifted to individual houses, especially on the days when the bus couldn’t traverse the icy terrain of the Island – which was most.

The problem for Elvie was the snow confined her to Elder House – and Elder House wasn’t exactly a place of sophisticated learning. Once per week, she was scheduled to have classes in the Court, but these were becoming less frequent as the weather deteriorated.

On top of the poor weather, Elvie found she was struggling to pay attention. It wasn’t from a lack of exciting lessons; in fact, Elvie estimated she could cast nearly twenty simple spells successfully from Ash and Oak House. No, the problem was that the attention of the students was generally focused elsewhere.

The murders were an endless source of discussion. Her classmates often tricked or wheedled information from their teachers to stay up to date on the gossip, which they desperately missed due to erratic scheduling. Elvie didn’t know if they did it out of fear, curiosity, or a desire to avoid working in class. Anander was particularly skilled at distracting teachers.

The second reason for her wandering attention span was the continuous debate surrounding the Duels. Students and teachers alike were excited by their impending arrival, causing classes to often deteriorate into discussions on who was attending, or who would win in a battle between different houses – not that Elvie could engage with that too much. To her, it was like the arrival of the world cup for a sport she’d never followed.

Apart from that, Elvie’s thoughts focused on two other issues she had yet to resolve. How to take Elisabeth’s advice and make amends with her best friend, and whether or not she should tell Alistar she broke through the locked door to cause a magical stick to absorb into her arm?

It seemed that telling Alistar would surely be the sensible path to take, but when she resolved to, the cat whispered a firm ‘no’ in her thoughts. Troubled, she was left with a strange mark on her arm, which faded to a ghost of an imprint by morning, and the worry over why the cat would not want him to know. Yet another mystery to ponder.

Telling Rilla might have healed their friendship, but Elvie could ultimately not reassure her of the one thing she wanted – that she wouldn’t leave. Telling her might have made her want to come back to Ash House, but perhaps the reason she wanted to tell Rilla now, was because she’d abused her trust and kept secrets initially. That wasn’t what friends did, and Elvie had well and truly failed on that front, even if she felt she had good reason.

Between her worry over Rilla, the Duels, and doing her best to help Callum and Alistar with their research, she was becoming easily distracted from her overall studies. It wasn’t her teacher’s fault, but her own. They were doing their best to provide novel classes, especially as they had finally moved into targeted subjects.

Kavan had further demonstrated his skill at summoning, calling forth a horde of worms from the ground, which he requested go visit the mulch pits to help break down food waste into compost materials. Elvie laughed in delight at the peculiar sight of worms bobbing back and forth like waggling tiny fingers.

Kavan worked hard to help all the students to recognise animals and connect with their minds, but much to her frustration, Elvie had not yet managed to connect to a single one.

She always appreciated James’ classes. He had such a passion for teaching history, even as he explained a litany of dry information about the past. Many students weren’t interested in the general history of the Island, especially when they veered into modern politics and the Luminarium. But when it came to the Cataclysm, or secret spells and the quest to discover them, they were all ears. James was smart enough to use this knowledge to draw the class in, while he made subtle points about the past and its impact on the present.

‘The Cataclysm,’ he mused to himself. ‘It’s always a topic that draws such interest. What is it about death and destruction that attracts us the most? Or is it the lure of great power which mages of old both supposedly held, then lost? It is a tempting carrot for all.’

‘But what happened?’

‘Surely you know the details, right?’ Elvie was glad when other students shook their heads in the negative. ‘Then I’ll backtrack some way to explain it clearly. From what we know – and I use that word as there is much speculation – but from what we know, a cataclysmic event was experienced by Magicians. There are two parts of this with which you need to familiarise yourself. The event, and the response to the event. I’d guess you have all been to the Court of Tides. Here, magicians were put on trial and sentenced to death for their alleged roles in the Cataclysm. They were rounded up, questioned, tried and executed, in what can only be viewed as one of the more brutal times for any magician.’

‘But what did they do to get tried?’

‘That is where it all gets quite murky, I’m afraid. If you were to do even a small amount of research on pre-Cataclysmic history, two points rapidly become clear. Firstly, it has been over two hundred years since the Cataclysm, and you’ll struggle to find quality historical records. The second point is much more interesting. I have no doubt that records of the Cataclysm have been deliberately purged, and not just from the histories contained on the library, but across the world.’

‘Why would you destroy history?’ Elvie blurted.

‘There are many reasons people destroy historical accounts, and none of them are ever for the greater good. Vengeance, embarrassment, guilt, horror at what has been done… these form the standard justifications. These motivations we would often associate with governments or nations – as always, things become more complex with magicians. Did something horrendous happen to cause the Cataclysm that we don’t know about? Was it a spell, or a group of spells? Was there a coup or a revolution? No… When it comes to the Cataclysm, we have only snippets of information, and none of these are particularly helpful.’

‘But coming back to the results, that is where we can see the impact of the Cataclysm. The destruction of magical knowledge, the death of countless mages, the scouring of Elder House into a shell with only sporadic magicians in hundreds of years. Why, at this moment, Elder House has reached four magicians, and that is more than it has had for two hundred years.’

Everyone looked at Elvie as she shrugged uncomfortably.

‘Those are the obvious effects, but the subtle effects are actually the more important. Magicians know that something happened in the past, something dreadful, and they are wary of each other now. Magical houses frown upon other magical houses, particularly Elder. Within the Great Houses, magic is hoarded and locked away until it is deserved in the eyes of those who hold power. Basic spells are taught to all students, but what you may not realise is that spells can be tiered. Some spells are simple and effective, with little room to be strengthened unless a magician forces their very life force into the spell. But there are also naturally powerful spells, which can be cast without even coming close to fraying. When these spells exist, they are all but reserved for the Masters of the House, and let's not even talk about those hoarded by rich individuals or international communities.’

James sighed loudly. ‘That is the legacy of the Cataclysm, a legacy of death, destruction, and loss.’